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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 33202 | 2021-07-12 13:57:47 | 132.44 | 97% |
| 32831 | 2021-07-02 17:35:06 | 115.18 | 95% |