Fall asleep with Henrik

Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we drift through memory like a midnight train—rattling carriages of rain on the Adventure Wolf roof, a not-quite-Luke hero tugging us forward, and a cottage where blue cheese grew in the breadbox like a tiny forest.

We visit old windows with yellow curtains, recite war verses that don’t quite fit a five-year-old, and meet the faces that made us—grandmothers, grandfathers, and the mystery of a dad who tells perfect anecdotes with the feelings left just offstage.

It’s an intimate, fog-soft journey to sleep, where the past keeps showing up as rooms in the mind and you get to simply lie back and let it all carry you. Not boring, not exciting—just human, just enough, so you can fall asleep and drift off to a peaceful night. Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi Sleepy. This one drifts like an unnecessary car ride into town that turns into coffee left unfinished. From there we tumble back to 2006—binders full of tour dates, whispered phone calls with elk hunters named Kurt (or was it Koot?), and four people in a forest of 500 empty chairs, half of them heckling.

Out comes Mr. Green Branch in his too-tight green suit, a grumpy caterpillar refusing change, while I wonder why I always end up in tights.

Phones appear, disappear, reappear. Memory slips, blue light glows, meditation becomes a crutch, and suddenly sleep itself is just another improvisation.

It is what it is. What happens, happens. And right now, nothing is required of you. Just drift.

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight I drift through mirrors—my own face in the TV screen, the cold studio air, the autumn leaves scratching outside, and the eyes of my parents, now fragile and still somehow ocean-sized. I talk about self-doubt, about calling myself ugly and then swearing, in a forest, to never do it again. I tell you about driving my parents through the towns where they once fell in love, about being both their son and their caretaker, about rage and tenderness and the unbearable sweetness of still having them here.

It’s messy, contradictory, sometimes absurd—but that’s what family is. That’s what life is. And maybe, Sleepy, you’ll hear yourself in it too as you drift off to sleep into the great, strange night.

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hello, Sleepy. Tonight we wander into snow and silence, into a lonely cabin where a map maker hides from the world, and a girl named Maya knocks on his door. You’ll hear boots crunching through icy forests, the stillness of a man who hasn’t spoken in decades, and the flicker of impossible maps — rivers flowing into clouds, forests made of glass, and secret tunnels that stretch under Europe.

It’s a story, but not quite. A dream, but not quite. A drifting between silence and symbols, where each turn of the page could lead to wonder or ruin. You don’t need to keep up. Let your mind slip, let the maps redraw themselves in your 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

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Hi, Sleepy. Tonight, I stumble into a story about watery vegetable soup, forbidden teenage love, and a dog named M who pinned me to a leather sofa with his smelly breath and fifty kilos of stubbornness.

From there, we drift to wrinkled birthday balloons, the sad fate of helium, barbershop choirs full of old drunk men, gooey macaroni comfort food, and the odd arrogance of singing “My Wild Irish Rose” with too much confidence.

Somehow, it all turns into a meditation on love, gas, sadness, laughter, and whether one should ever preemptively murder a balloon.

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

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi Sleepy.

Imagine a quilt made out of clouds, moth wings, and half-forgotten conversations. This is that quilt. Only instead of keeping you warm, it might keep you... asleep. Or not. It is what it is. What happens, happens.

In this hours-long, slow-moving meteor of sound, I’ve stitched together five journeys through the strange and familiar landscapes of my own head. We begin with a denial (“This is not a sleeppodcast”), tumble into a curious caretaker dynamic (“I feel like I’m taking care of Henrik”), explore the bare bones of human aloneness (“The anatomy of loneliness”), take a left turn into the rear-end of knowledge (“Arses and information”), and finally sink into a quiet tête-à-tête where time forgets to tick (“Tranquil tête-à-tête”).

The result? An unhurried, wandering, oddly comforting stretch of sound where ideas dissolve like sugar in tea, and you, Sleepy, can drift, sway, hover… and eventually slide into a peaceful night.

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi, Sleepy.

It’s vacation. That ambiguous soup of time where everything’s supposed to soften, slow down, sparkle. But what if it doesn’t? What if your inner rhythm just… refuses to change? In this summer-soaked episode, I step out of my apartment and wander through Stockholm’s shaded parks. I meet roses, ducks, and eventually a sarcastic, unexpectedly wise beetle who calls me a melancholic ape and asks what I’m going to do about it.

We talk. About loss. About bark peeling like scrolls of memory. About wings being a trap. About loneliness, goo, and the cruel softness of metamorphosis. And no, this isn’t a children’s story, although maybe it is. Maybe everything is, if you listen while drifting off.

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

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Hi Sleepy. Tonight we investigate the duties of a dude, explore the dangers of barfing in Bermuda, and invent book titles together in a kind of dreamy publishing house of the mind. I’ll be your messy thinker while you drift off to sleep, and together we’ll wander into absurd forests, revisit long-lost friendships, contemplate public pouting birch trees, and relive the time I failed gracefully in front of the late literary elite of Sweden. There’s also a sour face in a tree, a runaway boy on a kick bike, and a heartfelt reminder that the darkness isn’t afraid of you. And that, my dear Sleepy, might be enough.

Sleep Tight!

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

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Hi Sleepy. This episode starts somewhere between a weather forecast and an unknown song, and then tumbles headfirst into illusions, windmills, and the inexplicable human need to throw raw eggs into fans. I talk about nutcases (actual nuts may be involved), being a self-observing street rat, and my unwavering defence of my mother when I was seventeen and vibrating with teenage fury.

We ponder the pedestal of purpose, the ghost of Don Quixote, and the mysterious romance of telepathy across time. There’s also a forest. And a stove. And a scandal involving a man who snored through an entire audiobook.

Somewhere in all this, Sleepy, we might discover the meaning of life. Or not. But either way — this is your cue to loosen your grip, tilt your mind slightly to the left, and begin your peculiar little journey to sleep.

Sleep tight!

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

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

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