There are days when the barrage of internal dialogue overwhelms me. I believe it happens to most of us, readers or writers—thought is our staple. The needlessness of it bothers me.
More often than not, I have no control over them. The time spent in meditation magnifies the amplitude of internal noise. We are so used to background noise like the rattle of a fan or the whizz of a refrigerator.
The chitter-chatter of the mind is part of our existence. When the action mode ceases during periods of silence, then the disturbance becomes unbearable at times.