Dada is everything.
It is a bar of lily white soap, but it can't clean the blood off your hands.
It is Kansas City in May, and February in Manchester.
It is a delicious churro you bought from somebody's grandmother.
It is the smell of gasoline and fresh scented dish towels.
Dada is the war on bad ideas.
And the embrace of good friends.
It is also nothing.
I love you all