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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 451 | 2025-04-24 21:08:53 | 60.38 | 96.8% |
| 247 | 2025-03-21 14:42:30 | 49.74 | 95.2% |
| 208 | 2025-03-16 20:56:48 | 55.81 | 96.3% |
| 33 | 2024-03-15 16:56:14 | 50.11 | 95.8% |