I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of a bitterness I thought long dead. I think myself cured of all spite, but when I touch pen to paper, the hurt of a boy bleeds out with the sea-spawned ink, until I suspect each carefully formed black letter scabs over some ancient scarlet wound.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 96 | 2024-05-26 09:49:36 | 50.92 | 95.7% |
| 74 | 2024-05-24 02:58:01 | 46.94 | 93.4% |