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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1243 | 2024-09-18 02:24:37 | 72.20 | 96.6% |
| 1016 | 2024-07-26 22:53:23 | 74.97 | 96.9% |
| 537 | 2024-04-08 04:39:09 | 78.42 | 97.1% |
| 40 | 2024-02-26 04:04:53 | 71.08 | 95.7% |