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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1433 | 2024-05-10 17:56:39 | 63.78 | 98.3% |
| 1244 | 2024-05-04 20:02:31 | 58.42 | 96.9% |
| 1218 | 2024-05-04 10:50:47 | 48.40 | 94.5% |
| 599 | 2024-04-09 14:38:26 | 53.66 | 97% |