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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 31614 | 2025-01-30 13:30:14 | 115.62 | 98.9% |
| 27091 | 2024-04-19 12:35:24 | 115.82 | 98.9% |
| 24426 | 2024-02-03 17:18:54 | 110.40 | 97.6% |