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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 28336 | 2024-10-28 12:34:32 | 78.88 | 96.3% |
| 27861 | 2024-07-31 14:26:33 | 81.28 | 97.6% |
| 26829 | 2024-03-01 06:30:31 | 86.65 | 98% |