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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1858 | 2024-10-01 05:44:17 | 69.05 | 96% |
| 1387 | 2024-09-09 17:18:46 | 63.48 | 96.3% |
| 1096 | 2024-08-24 16:47:37 | 72.66 | 97.8% |
| 1016 | 2024-08-19 07:27:57 | 71.34 | 97.6% |
| 184 | 2024-06-04 10:51:47 | 59.03 | 97.8% |