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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1810 | 2025-07-14 04:31:12 | 74.80 | 96% |
| 850 | 2025-06-11 04:47:40 | 69.10 | 96% |
| 111 | 2025-05-31 01:39:00 | 63.42 | 97.4% |