THE RETURN OF THE TALKING TREE IN 2023

13.09.2006 |


(autobiography)
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The talking tree is the tree of life and knowledge (also often seen in school performances acted by the most difficult or untalented students.)

The talking tree has left its homeland to go on a mission around planet Earth where it’s now walking, talking and fucking with different nationalities, trying to make the world a better place. It will return back home to Mjoifjordur in the year 2023 to be buried or planted back in the ground from where its roots originated. There will be a celebration and other activities like the publishing of its memories from the trip and its autobiography, as well as rituals, transdance, happenings, exhibitions and concerts from the multinational group of friends and partners the tree will collect during the next years on the journey. People will then gather and join in a song and dance and listen to the stories of the talking tree and tell jokes to each other, laugh and cry together, hug and kiss and enjoy.
The talking tree tours also with the Poni Collective.
Below we can read extracts from the talking tree song and a few of its memories from life before he left home:

THE TALKING TREE GREETING
Hello
Hello … I am the talking tree … hello … hello, hello I am the walking tree …
I am the tree of life and prosperity
Hello, hello, hello
I am the talking tree
I’m the tree of love and fertility
Hello hellooo
I am the dancing tree
I am the tree of joy and mobility
Hello hello
Hello o

Hello
I am the happy tree
I’m the tree of truth and loyalty
Hello oo
I am the talking tree
I’m the tree of youth and virginity

Hello
I’m the tree of death and mortality

DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I’M THE TALKING TREE

Hello, hello, hello
I like you

DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I’M THE TALKING TREE
Hello
I like you
I’m your friend

I am here to listen to you and give good advice
I’m the tree of wisdom and prosperity

I have all the answers
I know everything
I’m the fucking tree
I’m the tree of sex and cruelty …
DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I’M THE TALKING TREE

Hello hello
I’m lonely
I’m dying
Hello
I’m the tree of your destiny
Fuck, I’m the talking tree
I’m old
I’m bored
I have been standing on the same spot for 2000 years
I’m tired
I’m the talking tree
I have seen it all

DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I’M THE TALKING TREE
Love me
Love me
I’m the tree of love and fertility
Hello
I’m old and wrinkled
What keeps me alive is fame and fortune
And erotic food
Alcohol and sleep
And that I know everything
I’m the talking tree
I can look into your soul and tell you how you feel
and see how long it will take you to get rotten and die …
if you are going to be faster than my sweet apple pie …
Hello, I’m the talking tree
I can read your mind
And tell you everything

Yes, I have been here so long and seen it all
I’m the talking tree
I’m in everything
I have seen them coming and going
I’m the crying tree
I saw the sad clown go mad after both the spoon lady and the bell lady left him, so he decided to slice off their arms one from each so he could be embraced any time he wanted. He kept them in his suitcase along with other arms he had collected from women, men and children he met along his journey through life. He liked to be touched by them and he liked also to watch the arms crawl around in his garden when he took them for some fresh air. It had become a collector’s obsession, collecting beautiful arms with beautiful hands and fingers on, sometimes even jewellery. He kept them alive by taking good care of them, feeding them well and talking to them. But the arms were all missing their proper owners and one day they attacked the poor sad clown and strangled him all at once, about 25 arms altogether. Then they escaped to find their correct bodies.

… I saw it happen right here in front of my old tired eyes … and since then I like to be touched by shadows, ghosts and other dead people I know.

DON’T FUCK WITH ME, I’M THE TALKING TREE
Hello, hello o
I miss you

I have seen it all
I’m the bleeding bloody tree
I saw the hairy dancer and his toenails grow long black and sharp like knives. I saw him use them to cut throats (halsa) and to take off skins from cats and dogs and hang them on a string both the skin without a body and the body without a skin. Then he did a strange dance around, a kind of a ritual. Nobody understood why and he sang to the dead and the living animals on his farm this song: ”let’s dance, put on your red shoes and dance the blues du durururum”. He also liked to cut thoughts in pieces (hugsanir I sundur), thoughts of good people and use them for himself and puzzle them together in different ways like putting all the good ones together and all the normal ones together and for instance all the thoughts about death together, like a body of a dead day, fear of death at night, in memorium, dead sisters, dead feelings, etc.
Don’t remember more.

I’ve had enough

Good bye
I’m going to die

Hello
I’m the tree of money and misery
Hello
I’m the talking tree
The tree of lies and credibility
DON’T FUCKING FUCK WITH ME, I’m the lovely talking tree
The tree of chance and infinity
The tree of fuck and dignity

The tree of flesh and immortality

Once I even saw a young girl fall in love with a goldfish. Because she couldn’t figure out how to communicate with him and show him her love she decided to swallow it.
She wanted so badly to have him inside of her so that he could tickle her insides. The fish swam all through her body from toes to head and touched her organs, her veins and her nerves gently and swam in her blood until he found her heart. Then he stopped for a moment. The girl’s heart stopped, too, for moment ... Then the fish kissed her heart and said in a language that we could hardly understand: Oh, my girlygirl, I`m just not ready for this, I`m not ready for a relationship … then he swam away sadly but the girl’s heart started beating again very fast and all her insides went upside down and she felt a knife in her throat and finally, she threw up … the fish came out of her mouth with the rest of the stuff and fell on a dry land where he dried out and died.
We think it all had to do with the smell.

Hello
Hello
I’m going to go
For a journey around the world
I’m the walking tree
I will return home to be buried back into my beloved ground on the brightest day of the year 2023, when the sun doesn’t go down at all on a spot northwest of Iceland's paradise.

There will be a celebration while I sing some songs from my trip (I promise to take some singing classes before and even learn to play the guitar) and tell you stories and memories and show you photos (just bought a camera). It will be a kind of a ritual where we sing and dance together and eat good food and drink good wine. I will invite all my friends and family and if you, my dear reader, will be a good boy or girl and have luck on your side, you will be there, too.…
When time gets closer to 2023 I will then give you better explanations how to get there, but it’s about 7 hours from Reykjavik in a fjord called Mjoifjordur and the exact spot is between the only two houses in the fjord.
If everything goes bad, it will be the only spot in Iceland untouched by aluminum factories and pollution. As big monsters are about to destroy the Iceland paradise with big machines and factories to sell its energy and their souls to foreigners. Let’s hope our friend, Miracle, will stop this terrible act and all the other terrible acts in the solar system.
Meanwhile I wish you a lovely time and look forward to seeing you in 2023.
Kisses,
The talking tree

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