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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5445 | 2025-08-03 05:42:27 | 73.07 | 97% |
| 5424 | 2025-08-03 02:34:17 | 66.32 | 97% |
| 4628 | 2025-07-18 15:04:18 | 69.81 | 98% |
| 4461 | 2025-07-13 10:07:29 | 75.37 | 98% |
| 3323 | 2025-06-07 12:11:12 | 73.35 | 98% |
| 2816 | 2025-05-28 13:47:00 | 73.43 | 98% |
| 2802 | 2025-05-28 12:24:30 | 69.80 | 98% |
| 2700 | 2025-05-25 06:17:11 | 73.39 | 98% |
| 2065 | 2025-05-14 09:53:58 | 69.74 | 98% |
| 1133 | 2025-04-23 09:57:19 | 72.05 | 99% |
| 372 | 2025-04-12 09:10:15 | 63.91 | 98.4% |