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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 847 | 2025-01-27 23:34:00 | 62.98 | 96.4% |
| 800 | 2025-01-25 23:42:25 | 65.67 | 96.8% |
| 529 | 2024-11-05 08:35:40 | 58.92 | 97.3% |