Faces slide by in glowing shadows. Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down in epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers, in a landscape of endless dull glitter and a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter. And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 135159 | 2022-06-09 00:29:06 | 173.88 | 99% |
| 130442 | 2021-07-02 18:53:39 | 167.52 | 99% |