I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet, several feet ahead of me? I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be? There is no beat, no melody. Burr, my first friend, my enemy. Maybe the last face I ever see. If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me?
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1990 | 2021-07-18 19:03:50 | 80.67 | 98% |