I don't know why I'm here. I mean, I do. I'm nervous, I guess. Anxious. I don't sleep that well. And my hands... they're fine now. It's like when you have a problem with your car and you go to a mechanic and it's not doing it anymore. Not that you're a mechanic. I guess a lot of people must come here worried about the bomb. Is that true? It's a common nightmare, people say. I read it in a magazine. My mother always told me that it wasn't polite to talk about yourself. She passed away recently. I guess I already said that.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5937 | 2020-11-06 09:25:41 | 109.37 | 99% |
| 1514 | 2020-01-08 22:52:37 | 91.77 | 97% |