When speaking, I can find myself floundering, thrashing about linguistically, becoming increasingly cross either with myself or the situation, producing more and more words, in the belief that the right words will eventually cancel out the wrong ones and I will be able to cash out, like in a casino.
Alternatively, I can find myself in cul-de-sacs, trailing off, unable to finish clauses, switching between ideas, hesitating, fumbling.
Both extremes are a sign to stop and listen. Either to the other person or to a higher stream of thought.
When I'm, myself, listening and I become aware of the language rather than the content, the same has happened on the other side. When real communication is taking place, the words themselves are invisible, silently performing their function like the stagehands wearing black nylon to magically move gear around a theatre stage. As soon as one becomes aware of the language, either the over-articulacy or the under-articulacy, the show is over.