Once Upon a time.....

I fancied myself to be a writer. Hence the word "fancied" and "hence". I loved to write stories and poems and the periodic soap opera script for a friend in my math class. I took all sorts of creative writing classes and always passed with A's ... so what happened? In the past 8 years I haven't written anything. I don't write letter's, I don't write in my journal, I don't write emails, I haven't written a work of fiction, I have not written a poem and I have not even tried to look at the stories I started back then.
Lately though, since I started this silly blog, it seems that my head is full of useless words that don't seem to come out correctly on paper, or I have the thought but it's gone before I pick up a pen. And then suddenly I have diarrhea of the brain while typing and the world (or maybe just my family) gets to read whatever comes out. So why is that?
I have a giant gray binder in my spare room that holds every one of my stories from the time I was 13 until I stopped writing just before I went on my mission. I think the last poem I wrote was a love poem to a friend who turned around and stabbed me in the back. And I think that maybe I have an issue with picking up an unfinished story because it was with her that I had found the inspiration to write it. This was going to be my one great novel: http://www.angelfire.com/co3/jedijunk/stupidmen.html
I had the plot worked out, the story firm in my mind and I was on a roll. Sure, There was lots of parts that needed to be fleshed out, but I assumed that would come in time.
I realize now, what I didn't then, that I needed to do more reasearch about the where's and who's and how's of what was going on, but for an 18 year old girl I thought I was doing pretty good. Three Stupid Men and a Very Confused Girl was going to be my best seller. See how that turned out. hmph. Not selling so good now is it.
Then there was my poetry: http://www.angelfire.com/co3/jedijunk/poetry.html all very entertaining, often filled with darkness and very often confusing, but it was fun to write and to be read and I found it to be a release for the world around me. I could sound as crazy as I wanted and I wouldn't be judged for it or mocked because they were just words and I was such a sweet happy girl with friends and a happy life so what does it mean when I'm talking to flowers or jumping out windows in my words?