How can I change the world when the words won't come out?

I want to write. My fingers itch for it. And yet, when I put my fingers onto the keys, my brain gets stuck in sleep mode and I am somehow unable to come up with something good. I blog hop for a while but it doesn't work. Those mountains of words I see before me only make my brain want to crawl further into its grey blankets and snuggle up against its pillows. I am stuck. I'm loss for words. I'm uninspired.

Back then, I used to be able to put pen to paper and come up with something good. Only I can't confirm that with testimonials because the only person whose ever seen what I write, is me. Back then, my words were so precious to me that I refused to let anyone take a peek at them. My terror at having someone look into my deepest, most secret thoughts was so massive that my heart just skipped a beat whenever I thought about it. I used to let the ink flow freely on white surface. I used to just do it without even having to think much about it. And then I'd keep it away safely, locked up, just so no one can find me and tell me it's no good. My stash grew bigger and bigger over the years, until, one day, I looked at it, still unwilling to let someone look it over, and decided that no one else ever will. I crumpled each piece up, threw them into a big wastebag and tossed it out into the garbage bin.

So it's ironic that now, now when I realise my love for words and how much I want to be the one producing them and how I want people to see them, I'm stuck.