That’s a beautiful description, My Excuse. Compare your description to this quote from my IM synthetic psilocin and ketamine report,
Reflections in an Obsidian Fountain, and I think you’ll agree we have experienced a very similar psychedelic phenomenon:
I spent a few years investigating the psilocin/ketamine combo because it was so fascinating. Once while within the thrall of the experience I asked out loud, “where I am I”? I felt my lips and tongue contorting in response, and heard word sounds tussling through my head, as if I were trying to speak a response. Eventually I spat out the answer “address gnarls”. The enunciation arrived with the implicit meaning that I was in a place in the mind where the location codes of all stored memories are “tangled” together in bundles of sometimes extraordinarily loose associations, such that memories from very different chronological points in life are in contact, and consciousness can jump between them desultorily like an electrical arc crawling through steel wool.
One other time I received another, but similar metaphorical answer through automatic speech. This time it was “tonight I bathe in the ever ebullient foam,” with the understanding that the color bands on the surface of the bubbles of the foam represent the spectrum of moods that compose memory. Each bubble’s surface was understood as consisting of a liquid layer flowing freely within itself and between all others in the froth. Between each new episode of the trip (your train stop destinations) the foam dissolves into undifferentiated water, and then effervesces again into a new experiential matrix. The formation of new episodes of the trip actually had a tactile component that felt like dissolving and aerating froth, like enervated foam. This is the same thing I refer to as the in the title of my trip report, with the "fountain" being the foam and the "reflections" being the images on the surface of the bubbles.
I tried the methoxetamine/psilocin combo once, and I found it to be similar to the ketamine/psilocin experience but all running together, like the “train” in your description crashing into a mountains side with all its cars crumpling up in a pile of spaghetti carnage. I heard the music I usually listen to in order to structure the trip deconstruct into mousy screams of distortion. I think it was torture for my subconscious. I’m glad it works similarly to ketamine/4-AcO-DMT for you, though! My new obsession is DXM/ondansetron/methoxetamine, which gives me a similar “random train stop” experience, but the destinations never have anything to do with my life or memories. They’re just totally phantasmagorical and play out on my ceiling with eyes open as if I'm watching a movie screen. In fact, it's kind of like how movies often portray tripping, the kind of thing we scoff at and say, "tripping is nothing like that!"