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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1672 | 2024-10-25 12:01:15 | 60.44 | 98.6% |
| 1665 | 2024-10-24 14:41:32 | 59.28 | 98.9% |
| 1368 | 2024-07-20 07:05:26 | 54.48 | 96.2% |