Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again. Where? I don't know.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 236 | 2010-05-25 17:11:11 | 48.78 |