Lost Generation by Sergei Šarašenidze — book cover

A true story · August 2026 · 287 pages

Lost Generation

A Memoir of Addiction, Prison, and the Long Road Home

Sergei Šarašenidze

A generation searching for home while standing inside it.

Kindle & paperback $7.99 · ASIN B0HCJCSQDL

Stateless — no nationality

One passport, stamped across four continents.

Narva

Estonia · 1990s

Lihula

Estonia

Maardu

Estonia

Viljandi

Estonia

St. Petersburg

Russia

Amsterdam

Netherlands

Lima

Peru

Cannes

France · 2011

Varna

Bulgaria · 2013

Sanok

Poland · 2016

Helsinki

Finland

Riga

Latvia

“The little prince of a very ordinary kingdom.”

Sergei Šarašenidze was born in Narva, on the edge of Estonia, to a Georgian father and a Russian-speaking mother. When the Soviet Union disappeared, the family did not move. The country moved around them. He became a boy with an Alien's Passport — not a citizen, not a foreigner. Something in between.

At fourteen he entered Maardu prison. Isolation. Winter. The year 2000. The first time. Not the last. What followed was a life lived across Saint Petersburg, Amsterdam, Lima, Cannes, Varna, and Sanok — addiction, sentences, love, and the slower work of coming home.

This is a true memoir. It is not a victory lap. It is a record of what a generation lost when the old maps disappeared, and of one man who is finally on his way.

Inside the book
Sergei Šarašenidze sitting on a wooden bench at Riga Central Station, a duffel bag at his feet

The author

Sergei Šarašenidze

Riga Central Station

Born stateless in a country that disappeared before he turned ten. Juvenile prison at fourteen. Scams, sentences, addiction — then the unglamorous work of finding the people who never stopped waiting.

Every written word is truth and only truth, written by me and based on my life.

Read the author page

His voice

Search for Home

Sergei Šarašenidze · 2:00

0:002:00

His voice · 22 September 2026

Still trying to get home.

Sergei, recorded in a hotel room in Bulgaria. Released 3 July 2026. Alone, then and now. The book is the long way home.

Play the recording

Anyone who has been a foreigner without moving

For people who woke up in the same apartment, in a different country, holding a passport that could not answer who they were.

Readers in recovery

A first-person account of heroin, collapse, and the silence that is not peace. No TED-talk ending.

Families who waited

For a mother who never left, a sister who kept a place, and anyone who has stood in the other room.

Book clubs

Fifty chapters and a letter to a dead father. Questions about belonging, pain, and what home is allowed to mean.

If this is your story

The book is for the kitchen table, not the highlight reel.

A page for readers in recovery, families, and people coming home — plus a resource list that is not a sales funnel.

Start here
Morning light on a kitchen table with a book and a cup of coffee

If this is your story

You do not have to read it alone.

The memoir is not a victory lap. If prison, addiction, or a passport that never fit is part of your life, start here.

Read this first

Notes from the road

Occasional letters — not a daily blast. Excerpts, club dates, the odd practical thing.