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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 446 | 2009-09-25 13:00:28 | 91.31 | |
| 313 | 2009-09-22 16:32:27 | 108.16 |