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 purportedly said to the ghost of Jacob Marley.
We reflected that the three of us were becoming more obvious to Jim as he is ageing and a bag has to listen more intently to his inner life. 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 here 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 replacements for every one of your current cells arrives from earth's supplies every few weeks or months as you reconstruct the skin of your bag and renew the cellular contents within with fresh materials. For that reason, though your template remains old and is getting older, you become a new cellular entity each week or two as earth recycles its materials to and fro. Even your wet bones will rise again and be renewed, though much more slowly. You are and will be the paradox of new cells from earth in the template of an old bag.
"To answer your question, We just are! You however are of earth. You are no more mad than anyone else. Not more; not less. You are just listening to us more carefully and somewhat more urgently now!"