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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5837 | 2024-03-25 17:46:16 | 87.11 | 96.8% |
| 5450 | 2024-02-23 21:36:52 | 80.75 | 95% |
| 5340 | 2024-02-17 23:44:21 | 89.84 | 96% |