Mousepound64

Critics call it "arthritis speedrun." Users call it "flow state."

If you have never heard of the MP64, you are not alone. For every thousand mechanical keyboard enthusiasts, there is exactly one person who has soldered together a Mousepound. But that ratio is shifting. Slowly, painfully (due to the wrist stretches required), the word is spreading. mousepound64

There is a quiet corner of the internet where the click is not a mouse click. It is a thud. A deep, satisfying, ceramic-like thunk . This is the world of Mousepound64—a hybrid input device that refuses to be categorized, a Frankensteinian masterpiece that has turned programmers, video editors, and digital cartographers into devout evangelists. Critics call it "arthritis speedrun

It is not a keyboard with a mouse attached. It is a pound —a term borrowed from animal husbandry, referring to a place where lost things are kept. The MP64 is where your cursor goes to be found again. Slowly, painfully (due to the wrist stretches required),

Virtual Workshop, 2026

It is ugly. It is expensive (total BOM cost: ~$340). It requires a firmware engineering degree to flash. And yet, when you finally master the "thumb-roll to pinky-chord," there is a moment of silence. The cursor stops jumping. The carpal tunnel stops whispering. Your hands become one with the pound.

At its core, Mousepound64 (MP64) is a paradox. It is a 65% mechanical keyboard, split down the middle into two mirrored halves. But where the right half’s "J" key should be, there is a concave, 55mm polycarbonate trackball. Where the left half’s "F" key lives, there is a haptic scroll wheel with 64 detents (hence the name).