is this deconstruction or what?

dispossessed and nomadic...i have slept in three rooms in two different houses in four nights...after a number of years on the road in the 1970s i converted to sedentism because i had had enough of moving around...this is dredging up old memories of " sleeping where i fell " rather than some fixed point, and i am not as young as i used to be...i can deal with this, but not without some questions...so, as if i am not sticking my nose into enough other stuff, it seems as though i am going to have to explore exactly what "home" means...at first i thought of starting another blog to do this with but since this deconstruction of "home" through rapid oxidation and its resultant confusion lends itself so well to post-modern "death of the real" i said what the hell...this blog has fallen into serious disuse and this seems like the time to resurrect it...as it is a lot of "home" stands to end up in the dumpster and when "home" is rebuilt as a shiny, squeaky clean version of its old self what does that do to memories? the corner of the carpet that molly the bunny chewed isn't going to be there anymore...so what happens to memories of molly? less frequent because of the lack of a non-verbal indices of what was? how much do visual cues play in making "home" home? there won't be any outside what we rescue and clean up...yeah some photos will remain but they will be unreconciled...the reality will have changed...old reality brushed out like an out of favor commissar disappearing from a stalinist group portrait...this is going to be a weird trip because i am in a weird frame of mind...thrust back to 1975 in some ways when i thought i had buried that particular reality for good and all...hang on...there will be grumpiness...