What is free writing?

A barrage of your thoughts; I wrote this when I was following my thoughts.

The mirrors are glowing, my future self would be cheering me on. I went through a dozen flashes of what could be and already passed. I see myself under the yellow brick road…crying? No, i’m not. I'm merely somewhere else in the enchanting castle. Apologizing? Perhaps if I painted the world green I would be doused in love. The essence of time seems to mock me, always the usual expression. Stuck in the past? Not quite. But I am still as haunted as ever by the past and future. I'm present, yet my mind loves to teleport back and forth the wishing glass. I'm falling through time, space, winter, a galaxy of doors, and the lottery to land in whichever, wherever, whenever, however. I see you, I see what I was, I see what you did, I see what I was. I see what I am? But am I what I am? The culmination of constantly fumbling and freefalling…will nothing snag me in an embrace? Brace me for the fall, or the illusion of it. I may be the most delusional of all. I see a myriad of life, yet at the epicenter it evades me. It haunts me, a faint memory of vibrance. I could never decide if I wanted to kiss it further or watch it sail away, whichever one was more piercing. The sharp angles convulse, the mirrors collapse on me. They all passed me like shooting stars, a dazzling vibrato of memories. Reality was, I travelled through time and space in an instant.