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 |
---|---|---|---|
5508 | 2025-04-10 14:45:05 | 72.55 | 96.6% |
3461 | 2024-12-19 15:04:59 | 65.45 | 95.9% |
2937 | 2024-07-14 18:25:38 | 69.30 | 95.7% |
2711 | 2024-04-20 02:42:15 | 68.71 | 96.6% |
2664 | 2024-04-18 00:13:50 | 65.39 | 95.5% |
2106 | 2024-04-03 06:24:07 | 63.41 | 95.5% |
1800 | 2024-03-26 22:15:08 | 60.85 | 94.2% |
1554 | 2024-03-22 21:09:29 | 62.76 | 95.8% |