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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 17352 | 2024-04-08 03:46:25 | 89.41 | 98.1% |
| 16799 | 2024-03-15 09:53:00 | 91.61 | 98.1% |
| 16740 | 2024-03-12 07:27:22 | 73.61 | 96% |