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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2912 | 2024-09-25 01:14:06 | 53.83 | 95.3% |
| 2552 | 2024-08-26 16:06:23 | 55.65 | 95.9% |
| 1975 | 2024-07-23 06:38:57 | 60.35 | 96.6% |
| 1955 | 2024-07-22 05:42:55 | 55.03 | 94.3% |
| 1761 | 2024-07-10 14:59:22 | 55.80 | 95.1% |