Inner monologues-ubiquitous narrator

How does the era of communication affect very communicative individuals?
Ubiquous narrator, that is. The narrator is not that observant to the small details, but does look in the essential inner of people, captures surroundings, smells and sounds, takes the best of it, subjectively.

My inner narrator is always looking forward to seeing someone or a group of people because there might be somebody among them she hasn't seen in a while. Taking account into people and impregnating of their thoughts or feelings makes the inner narrator collect parallel stories, sometimes interpret them, sometimes deconstruct them and choose a time to make up stories out of a sensation.

Has it ever happened to you? I realized mostly back in Barcelona.
Went running a few times, taking my usual routes. Being thankful of the sun in my face and the old fashioned songs dowloaded from my dad's collection.

As an example. The house under the bridge, the magic house I imagined so many beautiful things about. Everytime I run pass it, there were flowers, pets and smiles. A squatter tunnel house close to the bridge, so colorful, and so quiet beneath the busy surface of cars passing by. I sometimes imagined myself moving in there, hang around far from conventions.

The house was gone this last time, the flowers, the colorful place in an urban quasi decadent space... Concrete will be laid soon to build yet another road.
All these stories arose all at once in a split second. I reach a particular state when I run that makes me elaborate amazing stories and create tunes in my head.

All to the sound of Jeannette... Why do you go? Another bit of me gone, another story seen by the ubiquitous narrator that won't be told, which I never took a shot from to at least keep the visual bit to remember the stories.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2G-_lmBTrLQ