What are cowboy dreams about?

So I had a dream last night that I was in a church. The whole place seemed to be in a ran down state, but when you was inside the place looked immaculate. There was a whole group of people, some was just regular people in the pews and others was dressed in old Victorian style clothes, even a few who wore cowboy style clothing. When I reached the front row I noticed that each pew had one of each deadly sin. ( Pestilence was the plague doctor, greed wore gold silk suit, and so on.) Then there was two people dancing when I walked up. A man and a woman. The man was the grim reaper, and the woman was life. She wore a dress made of vegetation and fruits. When I approached them one sentence was said, "you wasn't here, so we started without you." Then I woke up. If anyone has an explanation to what this may mean please comment.

Hi. This is my first post on Reddit. I also posted this on r/dreaminterpretations. Sorry that should be *know in the title.

So I've had this very vivid reoccurring dream about 7 times now over the past year, but it changes ever so slightly every single time.

I'm at my mother's house which is like a farm with a long drive and a gate. At the top of the drive I see a man coming. He is dressed like a cowboy from a Western film. In the dream, I immediately know that this man once r*ped me. I have never been r*aped in real life but in the dream I remember it happened once? It's hard to explain. So anyway I rush inside and I say to my family "do not let this man in. Do not open the gate for this man, no matter what."

That's the part of the dream that is the same every time, but what happens afterwards changes.

In this version of the dream, my grandma goes out to open the gate for this man despite me telling her not to. I rush out to stop her and when I do so I see the man physically up close and realise he has about 10 children aged about 10-12 with him. They ask me "why won't you let us in?" To which I reply "Because that man r*ped me." One of the children pulls a gun on me, and starts saying that the man would never do something like that and that I'm a liar. The man doesn't say anything. So I say "if you all leave this place now and never come back, I promise not to go to the police." I turn round and go back inside and the dream ends.

In previous iterations of the dream, perhaps nobody will go out to answer him and he will shout and call for attention at the gate. Or perhaps he climbs over the gate and knocks directly on the door. It's different every time.

Clearly the man is trying all different ways to get us to let him in. Shouting, climbing over, using children to try and guilt trip us. Does anyone have the first clue what this means?

So to begin, I'm an unnamed Prince in like Sweden or someplace, and there's this guy who's canonically my dad, let's call him Onani Pillesnopp as a tribute to the Swedish language.

Onani says some gay shit before turning me into some weird combo of Moses and Harry Potter by putting me in a basket in the sea and letting me float away as his castle is fucking invaded. I wash up somewhere in like Queens or Brooklyn and I get found by this old, super kind African guy who just fucking takes me home. Keep in mind, this is if moses was 10 years old after floating away and travelled the whole ass Atlantic.

So I'm raised by this nice old man for a few years and he has a strange love for making burger patties with noodles for some reason but it actually tasted really nice. He already had two kids like 15 or 16 so they all just sort of become my adopted family.

So one day while my adoptive dad is making noodle burgers, this outlaw with a dark grey hat, a proper fucking cowboy, just storms through the front door to my small apartment and shoots my two siblings near a window. My dad runs from the kitchen to see what the noise was and gets shot as well, his body dropping to the floor in a pile by the window whare his kids laid. The cowboy dude smirks and leaves with two mercenaries by his side.

I start seriously fucking weeping for a few minutes before going over to the kitchen to 'Finish what my father started' by eating one of the noodle burgers. Then, plot twist, its a dream within a dream. I'm interrupted by my IRL dad coming up from the pile of bodies and saying that he also wants one of whatever the fuck I'm eating. I'm asking whatever he's doing in my dream as I'm somehow aware I'm dreaming but not really. He says he heard me talk in my sleep all night and had been listening for SEVEN HOURS and still didn't understand the plot and thought I'd been adopted by him, my IRL dad, along with his mother and grandmother, dressed in white blue dresses. I go 'what the fuck', IRL dad leaves, and the dream continues.

I look out the window after the cowboy dude has left, but I can't see him. Bear in mind, I'm probably standing on my adoptive dad's corpse at this point as he's supposed to be right under me. I drag the curtains in front of the bloodstained windows and look around for a gun I knew my adoptive dad had. It's in his sock drawer, apparently, a tribute my brain probably made to an Easter egg hunt from when I was 6 years old btw.

I start following the news, but it's a combination of the 1880s and the 1990s so culture is a little wack. I grow a stubble as I run from newspaper stand to newspaper stand before realising they're all selling the same one and I've wasted too much money. I start buying one of each new edition of the news because I came to my senses. The police never came to check the gunshots, and that was good for me. I didn't want to have an on paper reason to go kill the cowboy dude.

I buried my family and finally saw something in the news. The cowboy dude has been sighted near New Haven, and I steal a horse from my racist neighbor who'd harassed my dad and I ride away from wherever in New York I was.

I arrive in New Haven and discreetly start asking around, and I find out that some western looking motherfucker had rushed into Yale University to 'contact professor Indiana Jones' and I knew exactly who he was but that didn't matter to me, I snuck into Yale too.

I found the cowboy dude delivering a package to Indiana Jones who was dressed like a typical desk worker woman in an 80s movie. The cowboy dude shakes his hand before walking away, into a hallway. Those two mercenaries are still by his side, and I have a gun in hand, so I yell some dumb shit, he turns around and I make a shit eating grin and just shoot him in the balls like 4 times before being gunned down myself, almost dying. But it seems the cowboy dude went outside, dick more limp than a biscuit, and a drink guy slammed him into a wall and kidnapped him to collect a bounty from some sherif who hung him a week later. Happy ending, except I'm all alone with American hospital bills and the cops didn't need to think very hard to know I shot the dude but it didn't matter as it turned out he had a price on his head set by the law anyway so that probably didn't lead to anything. Most cinematic ass dream I've had

Okay, so this dream was incredibly symbolic in a sense, and I've never dreamt something like that before. It went like this:

We are in a universe where humans have their own, distinctive musical verse. To put things into perspective, someone could have a melodic tune as their main anthem and another person could identify by, maybe, something more rough-sounding.

But each tune is unique to each individual - think of it like how two snowflakes can't be alike.

Now, these tune are assembled not by random - but by different events that happen in that person's life, their hobbies, their loved ones, etc. These elements, in a sense, create that unique tune for the human in subject. It could be anything that's happened in your life so far, whatever memories that's created who you are.

Let's say my hobbies are reading and video gaming, and I have a small circle of friends. My unique tune will be something more quieter, peaceful. Whereas, someone who has had more adventurous events in their life would have a "theme song" like that in a cowboy movie. We could get a sense of what these person's experiences, likes and dislikes are just by listening to that musical verse.

Here's the sad part. When we're going through life, our happiness definitely gets jeopardised at some points. You broke up with your long-term partner, you sacrificed your hobbies for your children and family, you got humiliated at your workplace again and again.

Each heartbreak dulls the music within you. It becomes softer and less significant when these events accumulate without any resolve - and then completely disappear one day. So, if somebody's music sounded sadder or broken, you would know it immediately.

...and then I woke up.

I honestly don't know what this means at all and why I dreamt it, but I just thought of sharing it.

I hope I made sense in my explanation, though. I tried to explain it to my best ability without sounding muddled 🤣

I apologize first off. I don’t know if I can explain some parts of the nightmare well enough. Also, I’m on mobile.

I’m sitting at a fairground type rodeo setup, but it’s indoors. By that I mean there’s the main arena area but I’m sitting in the bleachers on the side but kind of “behind” the scenes. Like only some people would be able to see what we see, and WE can’t see the whole arena.

We’re in some sort of break in the rodeo (type thing) action and in front of us, on the floor (that for some reason had no dirt on it, just the cement floor) some cowboy comes toward the gate to the arena while riding a bull. Now, the majority of the spectators can’t see this, as like I said were kind of behind the scenes. This was also a relatively tame bull, like it was an act, but he had long horns.

Suddenly this massive....beast? comes out of nowhere and knocks the bull off it’s feet (slippery cement) and tries to gore it. The cowboy on the bull fell and ended up under it as the bull was trying to get away and the large beast was basically trying to kill it. (Imagine the beast looking like a bull, only 4 times larger and more aggressive.)

Finally the bull is able to get up and stager away. This is when we notice the cowboy. He had been under the bull and had been essentially “crushed” in half. He doesn’t realize it and tries to scramble away by crawling. Only, his bottom half is severed so only his arms are able to drag him away while his legs and hips stay behind. Those of us in our bleachers start screaming and crying and hiding our eyes. I can hear the announcers saying “Oh My God, he’s been torn in half! He’s been torn in half, Ladies and Gentlemen! Paramedics, please!”

I see the paramedics with their gurney and a white sheet covering the guy who is screaming. Then I wake up.

I couldn’t fall back to sleep after that, and I still see that man. 😢