A Bag of Skin

Me, Myself, and I are contained in a bag of skin called Jim. We talk to one another regularly about the direction the bag is going, and generally, what it's all about and what's best for it. We know the bag hears us because it often mouths our dialogue and we hear ourselves being repeated, though not always accurately. We are democratic with one another within this bag and our trio never try to dominate or take over and we simply laugh off the little foibles that we see from time to time that drive the bag to go off in somewhat hapless directions. Jim, who is easily mystified says, "Who are these entities that claim to be me, or that try to direct me in my life?  Are they Angels or Demons, or just Gods or Muses? Do they arise from an undigested bit of beef, a blot  of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato;  as Scrooge apparently said to the ghost of Jacob Marley?"  ------We reflected that the three of us were becoming more obvious as Jim gets older and the bag has to listen more closely to the inner life, since in addition, Me, Myself and I are probably stirring up the bag a little more often.  Jim finally asked, " Who are you guys anyway?" We , as a trio, answered in unison.  We have rehearsed this answer many times as we have always been there in the bag of skin called Jim and have waited for the question, which has finally come. ------" Jim,  we are much older than you and have been here many years before you.  You, for your information are a new bag and always will be since the elements of your cellular replacement for all your current cells arrives from earth's supplies every few weeks or months as you reconstruct your old skin of the bag and and renew the cellular contents of the bag with new materials.  For that reason, though  your template remains old and getting older, you become a new cellular entity each week or two as earth recycles its materials to and fro. Every cell your bag contains undergoes complete renewal;  even your wet bones will rise again and be renewed, though much more slowly, but the paradox of new cells in the template of an old bag will remain. To answer your question; We just are!  You however, are of earth!  Relax!  You are no more mad than anyone else.  Not more; not less!
You're just listening to us more carefully and somewhat more urgently now.