Death of a Artist

I Can't Write. I used to write all the time, but for some reason i just stopped... maybe because I thought I was no good? Or never gave my stories paticense enough to blossom. Maybe.
Maybe its because I wrote, because I was unhappy. I wrote to get away from reality. Or maybe, I always had an idea before I began writting. I never wrote just to write. I have ideas all the time, but i feel like none of them are ever worth being put down on paper. Or that I am an uncapable writter. I used to read too. I'm just so busy this year. Am I loosing my ability to be an artist? Am I becoming unable to make art? This is a great fear of mine. That the artist in me is dying. I was never really good at peotry, because I ahve a tendancy to ramble, but I kinda wanna give it a shot... I guess we'll wait in see. It shall be a feeble, yet hopefull attemt to revive my dying artistic soul...