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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 73246 | 2025-05-12 01:30:58 | 185.83 | 98.9% |
| 70337 | 2024-06-05 00:22:55 | 184.16 | 99.7% |
| 69537 | 2024-05-25 23:10:26 | 159.70 | 97.6% |