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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 406 | 2011-02-08 17:49:09 | 90.97 | |
| 398 | 2011-02-08 17:10:52 | 85.52 | |
| 258 | 2011-02-07 23:41:48 | 85.64 |