missing muses

I used to write, write a lot, and quite often. I used to have a lot to say... on politics, on sex, on love. I used to write what was in my heart, and in my head and I was unapologetic about it. I wrote poetry, short stories, commentaries, rants, hell even movie reviews. And somewhere along the way I stopped, I started writing short little blog entries, here and on blogspot. Updates, often without substance, devoid of any deeper meaning. I wonder what happened.
I went back over some projects I had done for a WebRing called Fugue and some of them were actually quite good. Even some of the poetry was good. I still don't know what happened, why I lost my muse or when it happened, but it did.
Today there is so many thoughts that swirl around my conscious and my subconscious mind. So many ideas and arguements and laments and stories that are aching to get out, and yet I cannot find the drive to write, can;t find the right vehicle to express myself. It is frustrating... I don;t think it is writer's block so much, as the ideas are there. There is something more to it, but I don't know what that something is. Perhaps it was because I got out of habit, perhas because I focused my creativity into my school work, perhaps it is because I became worried at offending anyone who might read what I wrote. I just don;t know. All I know is that I miss it.