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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 820 | 2009-02-13 14:04:08 | 93.52 |