If a blog falls in a forest

"Worlds are colliding, Jerry!" -- George Constanza

As of this moment, two people in the world know of this blog. No one else can be told. I would cut off my right arm to be read by million of adoring fans, but it will never be.

It's like this:

If I tell anyone connected to HospitalWorld about it, I will have to write a respectable and demure blog that can't be snickered over by idiot surgeons in the doctor's lounge, won't infuriate my boss, incite HIPAA lawsuits, or otherwise bring down my reputation as a dull professional. I'll have to sound always like a caring and serious person: the kind of doctor you would consult on a tricky case, the kind you'd trust to recommend Hospice for your sister dying of cancer.

If I let any people from FamilyWorld learn of it, I'll have to scrub my words clean of all intimate details, avoid further mention of the social workers sniffing around my house, and write nothing entertaining about my relatives (for example, how they rank in order of insanity). In other words, I'll have to say nothing I don't want flung back at me over Thanksgiving dinner in twenty years.

If I open this blog to my friends in MamaWorld, I'll have to talk forever nice about my children -- their innocence, their sweet mischievous grins, etc. (If you haven't been sucked into MamaWorld: it's a sort of portable weirdville in which women fake-admire eachother's children and pretend that motherhood is a special indescribable joy that sets us apart and above other women. For keeping up this pretense we're rewarded with a special key to the Mama Club. This is valued partly because we can clutch it for security and flaunt it smirkily in front of the keyless multitudes, but more because it wins us smiles from strangers and approval from society, and provides blanket protection against nasty words we might otherwise be subject to: ambitious, driven, aggressive and unfeminine; also cunt, slut, coldhearted bitch, and loser destined to die alone.)

So that's my dilemma.
I still want an audience.
I still think I can change the world.
I just have to puzzle out the conundrum: how can I get myself an audience of complete strangers with no ties to my actual life?