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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 615 | 2009-03-09 20:13:58 | 81.73 | |
| 143 | 2009-02-05 20:59:41 | 71.47 |