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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8773 | 2025-03-27 16:42:14 | 159.83 | 96.5% |
| 6637 | 2025-03-05 06:04:50 | 184.67 | 99.4% |
| 1741 | 2025-01-24 06:07:32 | 155.86 | 98.1% |