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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 270 | 2025-05-21 15:45:45 | 89.56 | 98.1% |
| 118 | 2025-05-19 06:06:13 | 93.17 | 98.3% |
| 20 | 2025-05-18 10:29:26 | 87.86 | 98.1% |