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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 183 | 2025-06-05 05:56:16 | 53.71 | 96.1% |
| 89 | 2025-06-01 07:18:33 | 40.45 | 94.9% |
| 80 | 2025-05-31 06:19:45 | 57.32 | 95.4% |