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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1219 | 2025-03-18 08:31:40 | 60.43 | 97% |
| 1044 | 2024-02-05 16:54:43 | 60.38 | 96.1% |
| 1039 | 2024-01-31 07:52:22 | 57.08 | 96.3% |