Ghetto Chronicles: From Serpukhov to Moscow
In our ghetto, Serpukhov, there weren’t many people with computers. To get to school, I had to walk through the city where guys were shooting heroin in the stairwells, lighting their spoons with lighters. Half-rotting bodies with glassy eyes could beat you up right there. The pinnacle of luck was getting someone hooked for money.
So, I got invited to an apartment by a local dude who had just started down the path of a junkie. It was hard to refuse. The guys said, “Here’s the computer, it’s not working, sit down and fix it.” But there was nothing to fix – the disk was destroyed. That’s how I ended up in debt, owing a lot of money for mythical tracks that were supposed to make it to the local radio. The whole neighborhood was waiting for a chance to catch me.
I didn’t go to school. In the mornings, I went to an amature radio club instead. I forged a certificate claiming I had bronchitis. I spent nights at my friends’ places. Serpukhov is an Orthodox city, and I loved God. God sent me to Moscow, where my sister and I had to sweep the yard in the mornings to live in the apartment.
