>>9522860Depends on context.
If I'm on my bike, and I have internal monologue running, I'm not riding properly. I'm probably riding roads I know well and I've got lazy.
When I'm writing code, I think in code and associated concepts. When I'm writing fiction, I'm usually observing from an invisible drone, and just writing down what it's showing me.
When I'm with my wife, I can have an internal dialogue which bears no resemblance to the words being emitted from my mouth. Incoming speech is processed at received speed, which is slow enough to allow plenty of processing overhead for speech construction. I visualise the processing of the data portions of the input; handling words and tone separately, scanning for high-value content. Memories begin to recall from storage and branch-prediction code kicks in, trying to supply possible solutions from a fairly short list of known failure conditions.
Most of the time, my speech is the internal monologue, or an edited-on-the-fly version. Occasionally, it pops out on its own, when I've done something monumentally stupid, (locked keys in car, put petrol in a diesel engine...) and I will hear myself say out loud "Oh, you muppet, Anon!" and be surprised that the person who spoke was me. Or some variant thereof.
I can't draw or make music, but I'd be willing to bet that the more extreme expression of those forms don't involve internal monologue that normal humans would recognise. I know when I'm riding properly, I can get to where I'm going and have no memory of the ride, because the focus on the 'now' was such that 'normal' thought patterns and processes break down.
