Bits and Pieces of Junkish Things: A Writing Dump by Yours Truly

Unusual Weapons

  I've seen many an odd weapon in my time: chakras whistling aggressively when thrown just the right way; XM42 guns spewing fire like the malevolent, serpentine foes found in a child's book; grenades, like flame-filled skipping stones, flying through the air with the piercing cry of battle behind it. Yes, in my long stretch of existence, I have seen means of combat come and go like drops of rain on a window.
Kind of helps when you've been immortalized as a weaponized cyborg.
Like I said, I am well familiar with the many types of weaponry out there in the world these days, so it didn't really bother me to become a cyborg. That was simple- you become partially robot, and you live forever, if not a long time. They told me defending myself in this advanced world of battle would become much easier. I was cool with that, nothing wrong there. What unnerves me now, though, was the fact that I was never told that the weapons would not be handled normally, or even utilized as an add-on to my mechanically enhanced body.
I was the weapon.
These days, I'm surprised I didn't notice at first. I remember feeling only excitement and a sense of great achievement, whereas now I feel the fuel pumping through my artificial veins, the ticking of my mechanical heart. Really, it's almost confusing. How did I not notice that I was altered into a walking battle machine? I guess I was swept up in the moment. Just goes to show why people should be more observant, eh? Well, at least that's what I've been told; rather, that's what they've tried to tell me. I don't really listen to other peoples' philosophy. Never did. If it had helped me in any way then to notice what a disastrous mistake I was making by agreeing to any of this, though, I am sorry for my inattentive demeanor.
Back in my days as a full human, I'd have to find a gun, load it, and aim to shoot someone. Now, it's as easy as calling my mind to it and pointing a hand.
I wish I couldn't do the latter. I wish I'd never been able to.

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How about that ending though. Wowie. Same as with the first thing, it was for prompt stuff, the prompt was, again, the title.