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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 729 | 2011-03-31 09:53:30 | 77.06 | |
| 564 | 2011-03-28 00:57:42 | 75.48 | |
| 232 | 2011-03-13 03:29:56 | 71.79 |