My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts

It’s similar to my NDE.

My Dream

I was awakened from sleep and told to write this. I scribbled quickly in the dark so I wouldn’t forget.

Time, as most of us understand it, does not exist beyond Earth. But even here on Earth—does time truly exist? We measure days and nights, seasons, and circadian rhythms, and from this we built our standard twenty-four hour day. Yet that is only a human invention. I want to speak of off-Earth time—or perhaps, the absence of time altogether.

Imagine time not as a line, but as a single dot—a pencil dot. Some dots are large, some small, but their size does not matter. Within each dot exists a lifetime, or perhaps only one second of Earth time. Yet all of it—smiles, tears, centuries, seasons—exists fully within that dot. One moment, holding everything.

Now consider this: humans invented jets, and jets leave contrails because of our propulsion systems, our atmosphere, and our relationship with time. But a UFO—clearly not of this Earth—leaves no contrail, no sound. Why? Because their relationship to time is not ours. Their time moves differently. And time changes how we see everything.

In the afterlife, there is no time. But what does that mean for sound—for music? Music is built upon time: rhythms, beats, measures—4/4, 2/4, and so on. Music only exists along a timeline. So how can people report hearing “heavenly music”? Perhaps it is imagination. Or perhaps it is that time is compressed into trillions of dots, as I described. To our eyes, those dots appear still, timeless—unless we move closer into their energies. Each dot contains vibrations, rhythms, magnetics, and gravitational movements.

Time is stored in billions upon trillions of dots. Where you find yourself in the afterlife is the place your own being draws you toward. Your imagination, desires, and inner vibrations connect you to the dots of lives, of histories, of experiences. Your energy automatically plugs you into your true source—your comfort zone, your enlightenment.

And what of other planets? The same principle holds. They, too, measure time through their own suns, moons, and cycles. Their “seasons” and “days” are not ours, nor are their circadian rhythms. If you lived there as a human, would you sleep eight hours as on Earth—or would you experience a “day” lasting a hundred years? I do not know. Likely it would be determined by the magnetic and vibrational fields of that world, shaping the needs of the beings who dwell there.

And the UFO—the craft that makes no sound, no contrail, and can turn at unimaginable speeds, even at right angles? What we witness in Earth’s time is only a shadow of their reality. They remain bound to their own time, their own magnetics. They overlap ours only briefly, touching our reality like one dot overlapping another. They maneuver freely because they are not bound to Earth’s clock. To us, it appears like time travel—zipping in and out, making vast distances irrelevant, collapsing history into moments.

That is all for now.

After thoughts…

Time Beyond Earth: An Afterthought

I was awakened from sleep and compelled to write, urged by something beyond myself not to let the words slip away. The thought given was both simple and immense: time, as we know it, does not exist beyond Earth.

Even here, we should ask—does time truly exist, or only our measurements of it? Humanity divided days into hours, hours into minutes, minutes into seconds. We charted sunrises and sunsets, marked the turning of the seasons, and followed the circadian rhythms of our bodies. From this, we built the twenty-four–hour day. Yet these are only human inventions—useful, but not absolute.

What if time is not a flowing line, but a single dot? Each dot—whether large or small—contains everything: a lifetime, a single second, an entire century, a tear, a smile, an age of history. All of it compressed, complete, and whole within the dot.

This vision also revealed why human-made jets trail the sky with contrails, while UFOs do not. Our aircraft are bound to Earth’s atmosphere, propulsion systems, and the time we inhabit. UFOs—clearly not of this world—leave no trace, for their movement belongs to another relationship with time itself. What seems to us impossible silence and instantaneous motion is natural within their framework.

But what of the afterlife? If there is no time there, what does that mean for sound, for music? On Earth, music is inseparable from time. Rhythm, beat, and measure—4/4, 3/4, or 7/8—these are the structures of temporal flow. Without time, music in its earthly sense should not exist. And yet, countless people who have glimpsed the beyond speak of hearing “heavenly music.”

Perhaps it is imagination. Or perhaps time in the afterlife is not erased but compressed—condensed into trillions of dots. To the eye, the dots seem silent, still, without motion. Yet each dot vibrates with rhythm, magnetism, and gravity. Step closer, and the silence becomes a symphony.

In this way, the afterlife may be nothing more—and nothing less—than our energies aligning with the dots that resonate with us. Our desires, imagination, and inner frequencies guide us naturally toward our true source, our place of comfort, our enlightenment.

And what of other planets? The same principles apply, though their measurements differ. Their suns, moons, and magnetic fields give rise to cycles unlike ours. A “day” there might last a hundred of our years; their “seasons” may not mirror Earth’s spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Whether a being there sleeps for eight hours or a century depends not on choice, but on the gravitational and vibrational fields of that world.

The UFO returns as the final lesson. Its silence, its sharp turns, its speed that seems to shatter physics—these are not violations of natural law but expressions of another law, another order of time. What we witness is the brief overlap of their dots with ours. They enter, maneuver, and depart, folding distance, bending motion, collapsing what we call history into a single moment.

Time, then, may not be a river, but a constellation of infinite dots—overlapping, vibrating, connecting, disappearing, and reappearing. Each dot holds everything, and we, in turn, are drawn to the ones that match the essence of who we are.

This is what was given to me. I write it as an afterthought, though I know it is only a beginning.

My art