In this episode I sit on a slightly uncomfortable bar stool in my Stockholm apartment and begin, somehow, with posture. Then we drift, Sleepy, into figure skating, old video cameras, a very expensive leather jacket, a glass of red wine at "The Prince", and the strange fear of being loved too directly.

There are teenage storage rooms, unfinished feelings, first relationships, cowardly letters, phone calls to fathers who don’t quite know how to answer, and a night walk through the Forest Cemetery with too much alcohol and too much heart.

It’s an episode about wanting love and wanting solitude, about the younger versions of ourselves who tried to understand what love was while already being afraid of it. Maybe it’s also about the fact that nothing is wasted. Not even the embarrassing parts. Especially not those.

Come drift off to sleep with me, Sleepy. We’ll let the old stories skate around for a while, and then maybe they’ll leave us alone.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Sleepy, I speak from my apartment instead of my little studio in the backyard, surrounded by a portable recording booth, a stiff bar stool, and the faint sound of children in the yard outside.

From there, my mind wanders to kindergarten, clay birds with bright feathers, fur coats in a hallway, and the strange fact that some part of me may still be waiting to be picked up. Then I drift between city and countryside, sirens and roosters, foxes and streetlights, dark skies and apartment ceilings striped with other people’s headlights.

This is a soft introspective journey to sleep about where I come from, what I’ve gotten used to, what I miss, and whether loneliness is larger in a crowd or under indifferent stars.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, Sleepy, we wander into the strange workshop of theatre itself. The table readings, the shoes, the frightened directors, the actors holding scripts like shields, the sacred line about saddling the king’s horses. I remember rehearsal rooms, wild-horse masculinity, Shakespeare chairs turned the wrong way, and the old ache of feeling like the dork in an eighties high school movie.

Then, because this is what happens, we drift north through Sweden with Mr. Green Branch and the Butterfly Orchestra, a bitter larva, a van full of jazz musicians, cold morning venues, moose hunters who cannot be reached, children storming the stage, and one parent trying to save everyone from dangerous jazz.

A sleepy, funny, introspective journey through acting, fear, touring, abandoned scripts, old theatres, and the small strange truth that sometimes a larva just has to become a butterfly. Or not. What happens, happens. May you fall asleep somewhere between the rehearsal room and the moose forest, and have a peaceful night.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hi Sleepy. Tonight we begin in the usual humble abode, that small studio in the backyard where the past still keeps some furniture, and we drift from sticky thoughts to electric shocks, from the mystery of knowledge forming in the brain to Flingan the tick-covered philosopher cat.

There is a warehouse dream in here somewhere. A studio inside a studio. A window with light outside it. There is also a midsummer doorstep, a cat who once knew exactly what to do, magpies, alarm clocks, denim men in dreams, the Tower of Babel (although I say Babylon in the episode, sorry about that), and God possibly needing better communication skills.

This is an episode about being trapped in a mind, but also gently accompanied inside it. By a voice. By a cat. By a strange thought that refuses to become useful.

For falling asleep, drifting off to sleep, or simply spending a peaceful night with your own sticky little brain.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, Sleepy, we begin with seagulls, of course. The old fish-gulls of Stockholm, one of them swallowing a whole pizza with the quiet dignity of a fallen emperor.

From there we drift into walnuts, childhood, the strange power of being the only one who has ever seen a particular thing, and then somehow, quite naturally, into alcohol, acting school, red wine, Sambuca on fire, shame, freedom, loneliness, sobriety, and the small child in the backseat who still wants to come along.

This is an episode about staying with yourself. About the wild Henrik and the quiet Henrik, both real, both asking for something. A sleepy, introspective journey to sleep through seagulls, old parties, strange memories, and the rainy grey field where life continues without needing to be solved.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there is nothing we can do about it.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, Sleepy, we begin in the blue, get dropped into a forest of the mind, and somehow end up discussing mist, Apple Watch pressure, Swedish community buildings, the dark forest theory, lonely Facebook groups, English consonants, weird words, escape goats, tigers, American politics, Swedish myths, tiny wrists and the strange comfort of being alive at the same time as someone else.

This is an episode about things bleeding into each other. Thoughts, forests, languages, countries, jokes, pain, and whatever that thing was you said out loud when Henrik asked you to say something weird in the dark. A peaceful night for falling asleep, drifting off to sleep, or simply being here while the world remains strange and specific.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Tonight, Sleepy, we begin with a telephone meeting, pass through the strange social weather of voices without faces, and somehow end up inside Seinfeld, holding a babka with a hair in it and asking questions no one strictly asked us to ask.

This is an episode about what happens when a tiny thought opens a trapdoor. About Jerry, George, Elaine and Kramer, yes, but also about world-building, childhood, language models, bicycle bells, life having a crush on you and sometimes looking the other way.

A peaceful night for the introspective and the imaginative. You don’t have to follow the thought. You can let it pass like a car in the distance. Or you can come along while the worlds deepen a little, and maybe we cry for reasons we almost understand.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hi Sleepy.

Tonight I sit in a tin container in the backyard, talking about monkeys. Not real monkeys. Pieces of monkey. You and me. Worried, wandering, trying to control things that don’t listen.

We drift through spring in Stockholm, where the light insists on hope while something quieter resists. A neighbor appears with a memory of a house that no longer exists, and suddenly we’re talking about what it means to miss something. Whether missing is something you feel, or something you do and fail at.

There’s also time. The kind that moves whether you participate or not.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, I try to understand why we lie awake rehearsing futures that aren’t real yet, while the present just sits there, unnoticed, waiting for nothing in particular.

You don’t have to follow. You can drift in and out. This is just a voice in the dark, keeping you company while you fall asleep, or almost fall asleep, or think about a house that only exists inside you now.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hi Sleepy.

I start somewhere near a phone. Or maybe in the absence of one. I circle around how we look at screens to escape a world that doesn’t quite fit its own stories anymore. Then I drift. Into Jack Bauer, into old TV rhythms, into the idea that maybe we’ve lost the space in between things. The grey. The place where nothing has to be decided.

You’re there, somewhere between listening and not listening. Maybe under a pillow. Maybe just next to me.

I talk about getting older without really understanding what that means. About identity crises that arrive like seasons, whether invited or not. About the quiet wish to still be moving, even when everything feels a bit heavier.

At some point we leave Earth. Not in any practical way. Just enough to look back at it. A small thought about space, about hope, about being a piece of monkey that builds machines and feelings at the same time. And crying a little without fully knowing why.

You don’t have to follow. You can let it pass. Let it blur. Let it become something else entirely as you drift off to sleep.

It is what it is. What happens, happens.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Sleepy… tonight I find myself somewhere between a waiting room and a memory of falling down the stairs with a sandwich in mind.

I talk about time that disappears when no one is looking. About being early. Always early. Sitting there while life behaves perfectly most of the time, even if we insist on remembering when it doesn’t. I drift into my daughter, into the quiet panic of missing her and the equally quiet fear of being too present. There’s a farm with goats and a childhood filled with rules and prayers and a God that felt a bit like a flashlight pointed straight into my face.

And then I wander. Into Greek gods behaving badly. Into questions I didn’t know I still carried. Into the idea that maybe everything is layered, not decided. That maybe nothing is as fixed as it once felt.

You don’t have to follow. You can just drift off to sleep somewhere between Zeus and a Swedish kitchen, between a boy with a tape recorder and a man trying to understand what any of it meant.

It is what it is. What happens, happens.

Sleep Tight!

More about Henrik, click here: https://linktr.ee/Henrikstahl

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.