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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6937 | 2024-03-19 11:06:00 | 94.07 | 98.6% |
| 6735 | 2024-02-12 03:45:21 | 94.37 | 97.5% |