![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the wonderings of an insufficiently sleepified giddy mind
Thursday, May 14th, 2026 02:45 pmI wonder if people who don't have an internal monologue do actually have one, but in the other half of their brain. Maybe their awareness is centered on the side of the brain not involved in speech, versus people who are aware of the monologue.
I wonder if some people who don't have an internal monologue still talk to themselves out loud, or if they don't at all (since for me, talking to myself out loud is simply an extension of the internal monologue).
I wonder if other people who talk to themselves start developing and using their own personal dialects. For example, checking the status of a UPS tracking number, I said to myself, "Let's tracken the number" and "Let's check the trackening number". I add extra syllables and such to words whenever I'm feeling playful. (Now it morphs into "Let's checkening the trackening number").
Oh it is such a nice gently warm day with birdsong and train whistles and sunshine and wind.
Sometimes when I talk to myself, I get an impression of the other part of my brain (or maybe I imagine it), such as when the verbal part of me has to goad the other part of me before my body will take action, or when I'm trying to figure out why I feel glum and reluctant to do something.
I wonder if some people who don't have an internal monologue still talk to themselves out loud, or if they don't at all (since for me, talking to myself out loud is simply an extension of the internal monologue).
I wonder if other people who talk to themselves start developing and using their own personal dialects. For example, checking the status of a UPS tracking number, I said to myself, "Let's tracken the number" and "Let's check the trackening number". I add extra syllables and such to words whenever I'm feeling playful. (Now it morphs into "Let's checkening the trackening number").
Oh it is such a nice gently warm day with birdsong and train whistles and sunshine and wind.
Sometimes when I talk to myself, I get an impression of the other part of my brain (or maybe I imagine it), such as when the verbal part of me has to goad the other part of me before my body will take action, or when I'm trying to figure out why I feel glum and reluctant to do something.