Faces slide by in glowing shadows. Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down in epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers, in a landscape of endless dull glitter and a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter. And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5799 | 2021-08-18 23:08:34 | 87.53 | 98% |
| 5547 | 2021-08-04 14:31:32 | 80.98 | 97% |
| 4771 | 2021-07-03 00:51:07 | 59.16 | 95% |