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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11454 | 2025-02-28 15:17:31 | 122.47 | 99.1% |
| 7790 | 2024-12-26 23:51:07 | 111.13 | 97.8% |
| 5169 | 2024-02-08 05:28:01 | 96.91 | 96.7% |
| 5065 | 2024-02-04 21:31:34 | 87.60 | 96.9% |