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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2836 | 2025-07-12 11:04:59 | 67.66 | 94% |
| 2351 | 2025-04-16 13:13:50 | 79.22 | 97.6% |
| 2142 | 2025-04-04 20:07:53 | 72.84 | 95.3% |
| 1294 | 2025-02-07 14:16:51 | 60.20 | 93.7% |