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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 757 | 2025-07-13 14:37:31 | 101.95 | 98% |
| 246 | 2025-05-31 13:02:34 | 92.79 | 97% |
| 207 | 2025-05-27 10:23:30 | 100.44 | 98.4% |