I have an internal monologue sometimes, and sometimes I don't. It depends on what I'm doing.<p>If I'm trying to think of how to say something, then I have an internal monologue that I use to try out ways of saying it. Similarly, if I'm thinking about how to write dialog or exposition for a story or for technical writing, then I have an internal monologue in which I construct drafts of what to say.<p>Also, in any nontrivial conversation, I prefer to try out sentences or sentence fragments mentally before uttering them. This habit contributes to me being an insufferable interrupter because if I get one constructed that says what I want it to, I then want to utter it, quick!, before I forget it. I'm not laboring under the delusion that my utterances are so very important, but the impulse to say something once I've got it constructed more or less properly is strong.<p>If I'm thinking about how to walk or drive somewhere, my thoughts are nonverbal--mostly 3D images or "spatializations" (that is, mental constructions of spatial relationships without any particular color, texture, or other visual content).<p>If I'm thinking about composing music, I may hear passages performed on various favorite instruments, or, like the low-content visualizations I mentioned, I may imagine melodies and harmonies without any specific timbre.<p>I guess my thinking is multimodal, depending on what I'm trying to think about.<p>My sense is that, generally speaking, if there is an imagined voice uttering words, or an imagined instrument playing notes, or an image or landscape with colors, it's always a rendering or translation of something more fundamental that lies behind it. I don't know whether that's accurate, or how I could know for sure.