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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 13418 | 2025-02-18 07:41:06 | 98.17 | 98% |
| 11299 | 2024-07-07 20:29:13 | 101.28 | 97.9% |
| 10003 | 2024-05-02 19:35:56 | 94.92 | 95.1% |