By Yasemin Ertugrul
I often see people recording the number of the days they have been in quarantine and sharing what they do while they are home through various social media with “quarantine day no. X” hashtags. I frankly say that I would not be able to answer if someone asked me how many days I have been locking myself in, and this is because that I have long been adjusted to the shape of “the time” of “the home”. Due to my severe mental health problems (BPD, ADHD and an ED accompanying them) and their social and personal consequences, it is rare when I leave home. So, it has long been really difficult for me to act in accord with the time perceived by those who frequently spend their times outside the home. Linearity is made up. Home uses time differently. At home, bodies are determinants of the (dis)order and the shape of the time. I perceive time through human and non-human bodies at home, which has opened, at least to me, a new path to start thinking more about a new ethics of living together in space and time. And I am experiencing this at the very moment that I am writing this. The cat is sleeping, my fingers are moving, my sister is watching probably the last season of Gossip Girl in the living room; everything is taking up their space in time, and everyone is safe now, at least for now. Soon something will need to be taken care of, and it waits its time. No schedules; just organic expansion of needs. Home is alive, and I am constantly trying to find new ways to offer “ethical care” for every single thing that are with me now.