He walked on without resting. He had a terrible longing for some distraction, but he did not know what to do, what to attempt. A new overwhelming sensation was gaining more and more mastery over him every moment; this was an immeasurable, almost physical, repulsion for everything surrounding him, an obstinate, malignant feeling of hatred. All who met him were loathsome to him - he loathed their faces, their movements, their gestures.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 374280 | 2024-09-04 19:46:38 | 137.09 | 98.3% |
| 374279 | 2024-09-04 18:01:39 | 129.31 | 97.4% |
| 374278 | 2024-09-04 18:00:04 | 142.44 | 98.6% |
| 374277 | 2024-09-04 17:55:18 | 152.55 | 98.7% |
| 374276 | 2024-09-04 17:54:07 | 147.53 | 98.3% |
| 355315 | 2024-05-23 16:30:51 | 121.07 | 98.5% |
| 355314 | 2024-05-23 16:30:06 | 126.46 | 98% |
| 355313 | 2024-05-23 16:29:18 | 142.74 | 95.9% |
| 355312 | 2024-05-23 16:28:36 | 148.65 | 98.7% |
| 328041 | 2024-02-06 00:13:41 | 133.62 | 99% |