Inner monologue (n.) belongs only to someone who can speak, since what is spoken silently can later be communicated.
Inner monologue (n.) overheard in full would tell us no more of what it refers to than one sentence read from the middle of a story.
Inner monologue (n.) is like tennis without a ball: rackets, manoeuvres and an umpire's eye, much like tennis yet fundamentally different.
Inner monologue (n.) is not half hidden but a confusing concept; it is an articulated event in time that can accompany an outer event.
Inner monologue (n.) is not a half-hidden phenomenon seen through a veil; it is not hidden at all — it just runs cheek by jowl with outward speech without coinciding with it.
Inner monologue (n.) of another is not 'hidden' from me: if it were hidden from me it would be apparent to him — but he does not know it; only the doubt that exists for me does not exist for him.