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 |
---|---|---|---|
294 | 2011-02-05 03:26:30 | 107.14 | |
171 | 2011-01-29 15:52:27 | 98.35 | |
126 | 2011-01-27 13:19:10 | 104.73 |