I don't know why I'm here. I mean, I do. I'm nervous, I guess. Anxious. I don't sleep that well. And my hands... they're fine now. It's like when you have a problem with your car and you go to a mechanic and it's not doing it anymore. Not that you're a mechanic. I guess a lot of people must come here worried about the bomb. Is that true? It's a common nightmare, people say. I read it in a magazine. My mother always told me that it wasn't polite to talk about yourself. She passed away recently. I guess I already said that.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1345 | 2020-12-02 08:13:37 | 50.64 | 97% |
| 453 | 2018-01-12 15:18:52 | 54.57 | 96% |