Really! I find that fascinating.

When I try to think of a tune (often because I haven't recalled the lyrics yet and am still trying to identify the song), I am just listening to the song in my head, trying to think of the notes and instrumentation of the next bit. I hear it, like a recording.

When I try to throw something--I said basketball because I figured it would be more relatable, but the sport I actually played was Ultimate (Frisbee, but that's a trademark, so the sport is just Ultimate)--I'm picturing the path of the disc, how it will arc on the wind, the precise angle, how to roll it off my fingers, how long it will be in the air and how far to lead the runner. It's a struggle to even come up with words for it now. It all feels visceral, the same as thinking how to reach my hand out to touch a glass on a table.

It's hard for me to imagine using words for those kinds of things because words are so vague and general. Words deal with categories we impose on the world, rather than the world as it is. Like, I learned to juggle as a teenager; I could never do that if I had to use words to think about every way to maneuver my arms and how the balls would land and so forth. I just have to reach where the ball is going to be, and throw where my hand is going to be. When I first learned Mills' Mess, I got it mixed up a bit (because I was learning from a VHS tape), and I had an extra throw in there. It took me quite a while to figure out how I mixed it up, and how to do it without that extra throw. But it was a spatial puzzle. I wouldn't even know how to convey the issue in detail without just doing it.

I dunno. I shouldn't be surprised that people's inner lives are very different, but this particular point confounds me a bit.