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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5830 | 2024-05-30 17:41:17 | 88.98 | 97.3% |
| 5166 | 2024-03-15 16:54:03 | 80.85 | 95.9% |
| 5031 | 2024-03-04 15:33:16 | 75.03 | 95.9% |