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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 25207 | 2025-08-07 14:14:56 | 137.61 | 98% |
| 21609 | 2024-08-19 15:11:57 | 149.55 | 98.2% |
| 19509 | 2024-07-07 17:48:08 | 142.15 | 98.1% |
| 18860 | 2024-06-30 06:26:22 | 132.98 | 97.7% |
| 15727 | 2024-05-30 04:03:52 | 138.16 | 98.7% |
| 13631 | 2024-04-29 20:05:49 | 109.03 | 97.3% |
| 12314 | 2024-04-17 19:58:58 | 129.85 | 98.5% |
| 7535 | 2024-02-23 00:54:14 | 156.31 | 99.4% |
| 6888 | 2024-02-21 04:23:09 | 151.97 | 99.4% |
| 6674 | 2024-02-20 06:56:26 | 132.45 | 98.1% |
| 6151 | 2024-02-16 17:37:43 | 156.34 | 99.4% |
| 5781 | 2024-02-15 11:09:05 | 151.39 | 99.7% |