About a year and a half before Tyler Riches ever pulled up to a dealership, the word ‘Koenigsegg’ was already living on his desk. The 24-year-old entrepreneur, known online as TJR, had picked up a Koenigsegg-branded Razor gaming chair purely out of convenience: he needed a chair, the collaboration looked cool, and that was the end of it. What he did not anticipate was that his brain would quietly read that logo every single day, embedding the hypercar brand so deeply into his subconscious that when a Koenigsegg Regera eventually appeared within reach, buying it felt almost inevitable.
The difference between wanting something and writing it down like you already have it
Riches draws a clear line between two distinct modes of manifestation. The first is subconscious, the slow, environmental kind where you absorb a goal without consciously chasing it. The gaming chair story is his cleanest illustration: no strategy, no vision board, no intention. Just repeated low-level exposure to a name, and a result that surprised even him.
The second mode is deliberate, and this is where he places most of his practical weight. At a point when his bank account held almost nothing, Riches began writing in a journal every single day: ‘I make $10,000 a month.’ Not ‘I want to make’ and not ‘I am trying to make.’ He wrote it as settled fact. The same discipline applied to his YouTube channel. When he was well short of the milestone, he wrote down daily: ‘I have 1 million subscribers on YouTube.’ He now has well over that number.
The mechanics, as he explains them, are less mystical than they first sound. Writing a goal in the present tense closes off the brain’s exit routes. ‘If you write down I want to be this person, it opens up the possibility for your brain to give you every single reason for why that’s not possible,’ he said. Framing it as already true leaves the brain with, in his words, ‘no other choice but to take action every single day as if you are that individual.’
The homework he actually assigns at the end
Riches does not leave the framework abstract. His ask is specific: write three long-term goals, then map five smaller action steps beneath each one. If the big goal is $10,000 a month, one sub-goal is simply starting a business. Another is calculating the exact daily and weekly revenue needed to reach that monthly figure. Every goal, big or small, gets written in the present tense, first person, already achieved.
He is equally direct about the mental block most people hit before they ever open a journal. Blaming external circumstances, he argues, is not analysis but coping. ‘You are coping because you deep down are telling yourself you are not enough.’ The fix is not motivation; it is repetition. Read the goal. Say it out loud. Act as if it is already real.
A journal with a number that had not happened yet
Somewhere in that period when Riches had, by his own account, ‘jack nothing’ in his bank account, there was a journal with ‘$10,000 a month’ written across a page in present tense, daily, as if the deposit had already cleared.
The Koenigsegg Regera now sits in a garage that the gaming chair preceded by roughly eighteen months. The chair is still in the office.
