I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of a bitterness I thought long dead. I think myself cured of all spite, but when I touch pen to paper, the hurt of a boy bleeds out with the sea-spawned ink, until I suspect each carefully formed black letter scabs over some ancient scarlet wound.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8830 | 2024-11-21 15:14:31 | 90.64 | 97.1% |
| 7996 | 2024-03-23 15:01:38 | 94.08 | 97.8% |