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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 11939 | 2025-02-14 02:48:32 | 137.91 | 98.4% |
| 11298 | 2024-11-21 06:21:21 | 150.60 | 99.2% |
| 10680 | 2024-06-05 07:59:08 | 146.31 | 98.9% |