Welcome back, Sleepy. Tonight, it's just you and me again—Henrik, here in my little studio in Stockholm, whispering gently into your ear with my weird dialect and my equally peculiar point of view. It's early, earlier than I'd prefer, and summer has burst upon Stockholm almost overnight, turning everything brilliantly, inexplicably green. How does that always happen?

We'll wander together through absurd memories of my dishwashing escapades at 25, existential bedtime battles, and those peculiar, intrusive thoughts about stabbing forks and asking strangers for hats. Don’t worry—it's less scary than it sounds. I'm just rambling, unedited and unscripted, quietly exploring the oddly comforting chaos of being human.

So settle in, drift off to sleep, and let yourself be gently carried away by my aimless but heartfelt musings. After all, none of us are perfect—and isn't that perfectly fine?

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi Sleepy.

Tonight we stand together on the edge of something that maybe was never there to begin with. I talk about the third arm that vanished, the cliff that never was, and the Pope I almost licked.

We float through cathedral ceilings and asphalt plains, childhood fears and ABBA-induced tears, trying not to fall—or at least not fall alone.

There’s Harriet, singing in the car. There’s my dad, holding a band-aid like a book title. And there’s you, Sleepy, drifting beside me in the strange safety of storytelling. Loss isn’t just absence. It’s surprise.

Sleep Tight!

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

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

Hi, Sleepy. This is me again. Henrik.

Floating above the endless void of meaning and language and strangely shaped English sentences.

In tonight’s episode, I reflect on the tragic beauty of being a Swedish man with a microphone and no filter.

We talk about parenting, loneliness, oceans, boats, triangles on Venus, the impossibility of controlling anything, and the maddening mystery of what birthdays felt like in 1348.

I admit my fears. I praise curiosity. I thank my imagination. And I speak, because that’s what I do. Words tumble like socks in a dryer, some pairing off, some lost in the dark.

This isn’t a lullaby. It’s something else. Something that floats. Welcome to another introspective and imaginative journey to sleep.

Sleep tight!

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

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

Hi, Sleepy. Welcome to this oddly brave little boat of a podcast, wobbling out into the great English-speaking sea with nothing but mismatched oars, a thermos of lukewarm tea, and your host, Me: Henrik – a nervous Swede with no plan and all the feelings.

This is the very first step, a humble monologue about nothing and everything: fear of failure, boyhood nostalgia, sleep as a kind of vacation, and the quiet courage of not knowing what you’re doing but doing it anyway.

I won't try to lull you into peace – I'll just talk to you... No sheep. No whalesong. Just vulnerability, some rambling, and the deeply unmarketable idea that you are not alone in this strange, sleepless world.

So drift off if you want. Or don’t. That’s okay too.

Sleep Tight!

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

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

Sleepy, tonight’s journey to sleep is less about neat conclusions and more about wandering through the vaults of your childhood imagination—swimming in coins, stumbling through radish economies and spy mice in pillar boxes. It is what it is. What happens happens, and right now there’s nothing we can do but let our thoughts drift where they may.

Let my half-remembered broken english on ducks, toads, fraggles, and childhood cartoons be your lullaby—an introspective, imaginative voyage toward 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’s episode is a softly crumbling biscuit of memory, longing, and the strangely delicious ache of childhood love. We wander back to Linghed, where horses bite, letters go undelivered, and a small boy (me) tries to explain feelings with plastic pearls and lies about the post office.

I wonder what love really is—whether it’s chemicals, a fog, or simply a horse you pretend to like. I reflect on how strong emotions used to be, when just the name “Therese” could turn the sky pink and plowed fields smelled like destiny.

There are truths in here too: about growing up, being a “guardian angel” in teenage love, drinking wine at actor school, and eventually peeling the fear from love like fruit skin.

It’s fragmentary, shaky, and exactly as it should be. A tale for your journey to sleep.

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

Sleep Tight!

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

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

Sleepy… what happens, happens. And right now, there’s nothing we can do about it. So let’s go...

In this episode, I do what I do best: I forget what I’m doing halfway through doing it, and continue doing it anyway. I talk to you about disaster. Not the dramatic kind, but the kind you're born into—life as a pile of debris to build something beautiful out of.

We wander from a lion-infested South African cave, through the gray tunnels of adulthood, to a snowy childhood field where stars throw themselves at us.

Bitterness lurks like a sleepy beast, and I talk about quitting alcohol, about not being sure what anything means anymore.

There’s a future coming. It might be bright. It might be dark. It might be both. But we’re here, you and I, alive in the debris. And that’s… kind of a miracle.

Sleep tight!

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

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

Hi Sleepy. So, here we are again—just you and me, Henrik.

Tonight, I’m nervous and curious all at once, trying out this whole speaking-English-with-a-Swedish-accent thing. It makes me feel both exotic and, let’s be honest, a little awkward. I'll probably ramble about what it feels like when Swedes encounter confident English speakers abroad and how quickly we wish we could disappear through the ground. And then there's the solitary weirdness of being my own boss—imagine thousands of decisions piling up every day and nobody else to say good morning to except myself.

Expect some thoughts on masculinity and sadness too, because apparently, podcasting is the new form of therapy for guys who don’t usually open up. Plus, I'll probably talk about this dream I had about being a lighthouse keeper. It’s lonely, peaceful, and a bit magical—just like this podcast, really.

Anyway, it is what it is. Let’s begin.

Sleep Tight!

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

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

Smoke gets in my eyes, Sleepy.

Tonight, we wander through the fog—the good kind, the dreamy kind. The kind where thoughts are like lazy ghosts around a campfire, dodging the marshmallows and heading straight for your face. I talk about mopeds, naturally. And being an idiot. Also naturally. Youth, spicy food, graves under church carpets, and the weight of choosing love—whatever that means.

There’s a subtle kind of crying happening, but don’t worry. It’s the sort that doesn’t need comfort. It just is. Like you. Like me. Like a rotating crucifix above the altar (don’t ask).

Let’s begin. 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. Tonight, we trace the tangled threads of Henrik’s lineage — from noble knights with goat-pensions and helmet-fields, to tall matriarchs in hypnotic 60's dresses, to smoky kitchen dances and secret jewelry sessions on shaggy bedroom carpets.

We meet King Håkon Longlegs (or… do we?), Wolf Shield heiresses, and the dignified stillness of people who have seen things. Henrik pours out ancestral daydreams like golden chains over your face — cool to the touch, warm to the heart.

And somewhere in all this: square dancing, forgotten fathers, the tragedy of silence, and the strange sadness of dry martini memories.

Because you, Sleepy, are not alone. You are one in a long, long line. And maybe, just maybe, you are also the whole line.

Sleep Tight!

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

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