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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 61 | 2024-10-19 23:25:13 | 74.49 | 96.8% |
| 7 | 2024-10-19 16:34:38 | 64.15 | 95.2% |