Some Dreams

I am not a person who believes in predestiny, per se. I think that there are patterns that one falls or sublimates themselves into. What am I driving at? My dreams. OK, now, if you are the sort that laughs off someones dreams then you may leave. If you are not, and you may perceive certain truths that come forward only in the unconscious, then you may stay. Two dreams I have had recently have perturbed me:
1. My Father selling our land. You see, it is our land. This land. I am driving up to my parents home (at this point strangers usually ask, "Are we lost?" we are so far inland). There is a clover intersection over the creek, and many cars make the turn into our property. Further down, past the Big Pond, there is a tree without leaves which supports large stones. Behind my childhood home lies large Vegas-quese skyscrapers I am so distraught I sit down in the driveway. My Father comes and picks me up, as though I were a child, and tells me everything is going to be OK; lets go in. Tilda Swanson wants to meet me inside one of the casinos.
2. I am visiting my cousin Adam. Adam is a gay man living in Dallas. He lives in an adorable, yet shabby rental apartment. He has two joints; one for me and one for him. I think it's a little excessive, but pretend to go with the flow. Another friend of Adam's shows up and they begin to do heroin. I refuse, and after some time we all go for a walk. Descending into a stadium's staircase, Adam and I catch sight of a blonde woman in a business suit ascending. He and I, both Democrats, recognize Hilary Clinton. I turn to look at her as she turns to look at me, and we smile at each other. Then she turns and walks alone to the top and out. Adam and I are OMG'ing.
What does it all mean? It's a full moon!